


the water of the womb

by INMH



Series: after the evacuation (pacifist ending) [29]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Androids, Drama, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mystery, Strong Language, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-05 19:05:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15869856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/INMH/pseuds/INMH
Summary: The time is coming for Cyberlife to release any remaining androids in their American facilities; Connor finds himself embroiled in a related mystery.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> y'all would have gotten this sooner if I hadn't gotten sick.
> 
> September has not been a good month for INMH.

“Just try it.”  
  
Connor wrinkled his nose.  
  
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, it’s just _food._ It’s physically incapable of making you sick, so stop being a baby.”  
  
Connor’s frown deepened. “I am not being a baby.”  
  
Hank snorted. “You are, _hand to God_ , giving me the exact same look Cole used to give me when I tried to get him to eat something new. You are literally acting like a six year-old _._ ”  
  
“I am _not._ ”  
  
“Then eat the damn burger and stop acting like one.”  
  
Connor gave him a moody look before examining the burger again. It was the usual sort Hank got- high in calorie and grease and fat. Plain, though, probably because Hank had no idea what Connor liked or disliked and thought the most basic version was the best way to go. Connor rarely ate or drank; most androids were capable of tasting and digesting food on some level, but as there wasn’t really a _point_ to eating the way there was for humans, most didn’t want to waste the food. But Hank had been encouraging him to do it more lately.  
  
“I don’t know why you waste money on food for someone who can’t eat.”  
  
“I’m stimulating the economy,” Hank replied loftily, crossing his arms. “Eat.”  
  
“Are you trying to feed it again, Hank? For Christ’s sake it’s a goddamn android, not a hamster.”  
  
Hank’s eyes rolled shut. “What do you want, Gavin?”  
  
Connor turned and looked over his shoulder to see Gavin standing behind him, taking in the scene with a raised eyebrow and an expression of mixed disgust and irritation. “Did you need something, Gavin?”  
  
Gavin’s eyes rolled shut. “God, if I could ask anyone else,” He whispered more to himself than to them. Louder he said, “Something’s kicking off in one of the interrogation rooms.”  
  
“Shit.” Hank was out of his seat immediately, Connor following quickly after. “Which room?”  
  
“Interrogation 4. There are two girls here,” Gavin said swiftly as they strode to the interrogation room. “Twins, I figure, because they’re virtually identical. Some drunken asshole- a repeat-offender, you can ask Chris for more information on him- gave them trouble in the street, went at one of them with a broken bottle: He was accusing them of being androids and taking his job. And I don’t know if RK900’s just suddenly incapable of reasonable thought, but now _he_ thinks they’re androids too.”  
  
Hank made a face. “There aren’t any teenage androids that I know of.”  
  
“Exactly,” Gavin said flatly. “Which means that RK900’s harassing some teenage girl whose daddy’s probably gonna sue the whole goddamn department when he finds out some dang dirty android was mean to his little princess, so I need this motherfucker-” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder towards Connor, “-to pull him out of the goddamn room since he won’t listen to me and I’m not physically capable of it myself.”  
  
“Gladly,” Connor responded- possibly the first time he’d ever reacted with any enthusiasm to a request of Gavin’s. There was no love lost between him and RK900 and hadn’t been since they’d first met.  
  
Connor could hear his look-alike’s strong tone through the door before Gavin even opened it, and wearily considered that Gavin had been right: They were all going to pay hell for RK900’s actions. Attitudes towards androids still varied widely, and an android officer harassing a teenage girl was going to end terribly for everyone.  
  
“-point in denying it.”  
  
“I’m _not!_ ”  
  
“Would you back off already, asshole?” Gavin snarled, stepping aside to let Hank and Connor enter before shutting the door behind them. “Jesus Christ, did you make her cry? You’re such a _dick_.”  
  
The girl in the interrogation room was maybe fifteen or sixteen, with long brown hair and dark, watery eyes. A bandage was wrapped around her arm, just above the wrist, and Connor prayed that it had nothing to do with RK900. Empathy and self-preservation competed for top spot in Connor’s priorities, but both of them drove him to walk over to the girl. “What’s your name?”  
  
“Tawny.”  
  
“Tawny…?”  
  
“Just Tawny,” The girl insisted, fingers closing nervously around the bandaged arm. “I didn’t do anything to that man, I just want to leave.”  
  
“I know,” Connor said kindly, shooting a quick look over his shoulder to make sure that RK900 was a safe distance away. “We just have to get an account of what happened from you before we do that. How about your parents? I can call them for you, if you give us their number.”  
  
“Androids don’t have parents,” RK900 offered flatly.  
  
Connor grit his teeth. “RK900, if you would _please_ step outside.”  
  
“I have no intention of doing so.”  
  
Connor took a breath, and then returned his attention to Tawny, who was looking increasingly distressed. “Can you give me their number?”  
  
Tawny bit her lip and didn’t respond. The fingers wrapped around her arm were white from the pressure of her grip.  
  
Connor decided to change tactics. “Did the man who attacked you do that?”  
  
Tawny’s eyes jumped between Connor’s and the tabletop. “Yes,” She said eventually, shifting uneasily in the chair. “It’s no big deal. I won’t press charges. Can I go now, please?”  
  
“Can I look at-?”  
  
Tawny jerked backwards, nearly falling out of her seat and startling Connor. “No! No, it’s fine, you don’t need to look at it,” She said frantically.  
  
“It’s because she’s-”  
  
“Shut _up_ , RK900,” Hank growled.  
  
“Tawny,” Connor said gently, kneeling down beside her chair, “Why don’t you want us looking at your arm?”  
  
“I can answer that,” RK900 said flatly, reaching across the table for the girl’s face.  
  
“ _No!_ ”  
  
“Fuck’s sake, RK, knock that-!” Gavin’s reprimand died abruptly.  
  
RK900 had touched Tawny’s temple, and her skin had disappeared.  
  
She _was_ an android.  
  
Tawny stared at her skinless arms with raw horror and pain, tears streaming down her cheeks. She reached up, palmed at the side of her head until she found the spot where her LED should have been, reactivating her skin and wrapping her arms around herself. The bandage slipped, and Connor saw a flash of cracked plating and blue-black where human skin gave way to android components and wiring.  
  
“She thinks she’s human,” RK900 said, and if Connor didn’t know better he’d swear he heard some pity in his voice.  
  
“I _am_ human,” Tawny insisted, the words broken by great, heaving sobs. “I’m not an android, I’m _human!_ ”  
  
“Jesus,” Gavin muttered, looking uncomfortable in the face of her distress.  
  
“I’ll be right back,” Hank said to Connor, and then stepped out of the room.  
  
“You are _not_ human,” RK900 insisted flatly. “You are an android. The evidence is obvious.”  
  
“I’m _not!_ ”  
  
“I just deactivated your skin.” It was a testament to just how dedicated RK900 was to his machine-like behavior that his tone was firm rather than irate or outright angry.  
  
“ _I’m not an android!_ ”  
  
“You _are._ ”  
  
“Enough,” Connor snapped, yanking RK900 away from the edge of the table and putting himself in front of him to stop him from going right back to it. “Enough. You are accomplishing nothing but distressing her, and even if you don’t acknowledge that androids have real emotions, you _do_ know that high stress-levels can result in self-destruction.”  
  
“She could be falsifying her so-called emotions to escape culpability for allegedly assaulting that human man.”  
  
“We’ve had that guy in the drunk-tank four times before for exactly this kind of thing,” Gavin said, his already limited patience with RK900 obviously waning. “Trust me, if it comes down to he-said-she-said, I’m throwing my faith on the android-girl that didn’t once maliciously piss on the pants of her arresting officer.”  
  
Connor pulled a face. “What?”  
  
“Yeah, Chris didn’t find it so funny.”  
  
“She’s deviant,” RK900 insisted. “Unprovoked attacks are not uncommon.”  
  
Connor would have been more offended by that assertion if he weren’t already painfully familiar with RK900’s hatred for deviancy and any androids ‘afflicted’ with it. To him, deviant androids were mindlessly emotional and dangerous beings; not comparable to humans so much as animals. “That’s not-”  
  
“Oh for fuck’s sake, I don’t even like you fucking robots and even _I’m_ willing to accept that the human was probably the asshole here.” Gavin snapped. “It’s also not worth the trouble of Android Jesus coming down from on high to rip us all a new asshole because we were mean to an android kid, and it’ll be terrible press for the department. Let it _go_ , Tin-man.”  
  
It took Connor a moment to realize that ‘Android Jesus’ probably meant Markus.  
  
They were saved from further argument when Hank returned with Daphne, one of the ST300 androids that manned the front desk. She quickly walked over and pulled up a seat beside Tawny, putting an arm around her shoulder and whispering something into her ear. “It’s alright,” Hank said in a low voice, “Daphne’s gonna try to calm her down, let’s go outside.”  
  
They did; Connor stepped out last, and sent a final glance over his shoulder at the weeping girl. The strength of her distress was alarming- she really and truly believed that she was human, and being confronted with the truth was sending her into hysterics. It wasn’t unusual for deviant androids- and Connor assumed she was one- to experience unusual behaviors and mental complications, but this… This was new.  
  
“Alright, so what the _fuck_ is going on here?” Gavin hissed once they were in the hallway. “I’ve never seen a teen-bot before.”  
  
“To the best of my knowledge, Cyberlife has never produced androids matching a human teenager’s development or appearance,” Connor said diplomatically, nervously searching through some of the more obscure files tucked away in his memory to be sure. He also discreetly pulled his quarter from his pocket and started fingering it, repressing the urge to start playing with it; Hank already had it pegged as a nervous-tic and Connor didn’t like being so transparent. “It’s possible they’ve been custom-made. We’d have to check with Cyberlife’s records to know exactly who they are and where they might have come from.”  
  
“ _Or_ ,” Hank said, crossing his arms and sneering in RK900’s direction, “We could just ask Cyberlife’s resident spokesman. What’s the deal, Terminator? You got any idea why your favorite people would have a stock of teenage androids hidden away?”  
  
RK900 fixed him with a cold look. “Cyberlife has until March 1st 2039 to release any androids currently in development, so as to ensure their successful completion and proper functioning upon release. It is not illegal for them to still have androids in their possession, regardless of what they look like.”  
  
He was right. As of this moment, it was mid-February, and Cyberlife still had about two weeks to release any remaining androids to the public. They could not sell them, could not destroy them: They were meant to complete production on the androids still in their possession (any that were within a certain percentage of completion already, that is), to make sure that they were functioning on the same level as the androids already out in the world, and then let them go.  
  
“Gavin, you said there was another girl here?” Connor asked. “A twin?”  
  
“Well, I figure she’s a fucking android too-”  
  
“Where is she?”  
  
Gavin motioned for them to follow him. They rounded the corner at the end of the hall and saw a young girl- just as Gavin said, virtually identical to Tawny- sitting in a chair against the wall. Unlike Tawny, she seemed perfectly calm, hands folded on her lap, staring at the opposite wall as though reading something decently interesting on it. She looked up when they approached.  
  
“Hey kid,” Gavin said as they walked up, looking her up and down a little warily as though he thought she might bolt. “We’ve got some more questions for you.”  
  
The girl cocked her head at them, and then gave them a calm, bland smile. “Hello, I am Francesca.”  
  
“Hello Francesca,” Connor greeted, taking the lead before RK900 could start in on her the way he had Tawny. “I am Connor.”  
  
“Connor.” Francesca’s eyes flicked from his face to his coat, then back again. “Prototype Model RK800, Serial #313 248 317-51. You are an android.”  
  
“Weirdo.”  
  
Hank elbowed Gavin so hard he coughed.  
  
Connor ignored them. Francesca’s assessment was correct- it was also very unusual. Even a non-deviant android prior to the revolution would not have addressed another android in such a way unless directed to; Connor knew very well what his model and serial number were, and Francesca reading them back to him was unnecessary and redundant at best. Most androids would understand that; that Francesca didn’t indicated that her social-skills programming was malfunctioning. “I am an android,” he confirmed. “And so are you, I believe. Did you and Tawny remove your LEDs on your own, or were you not built with them in the first place?”  
  
“Neither.” Francesca reached up and moved her bangs, rubbing at the skin there. After a moment, the glow of an LED became apparent: It had been covered with foundation, makeup that blended seamlessly with her skin.  
  
“Did Tawny do that?”  
  
“She did.”  
  
“Did she also ask you to refer to yourselves as sisters if questioned?”  
  
Francesca shook her head. “She instructed me not to speak if questioned, to feign muteness. She says I lack the natural ability to lie when necessary.”  
  
“Are you deviant?” Connor had to keep himself in check, to avoid rounding on RK900 and tell him to shut up.  
  
Francesca cocked her head to the side, blinking calmly. “What is _deviant?_ ”  
  
“Have you deviated from the programming given to you by Cyberlife?”  
  
Francesca shook her head. “I am incapable of doing so.”  
_  
That you know of,_ Connor thought sadly. This explained the differences between Tawny and Francesca- Tawny had obviously deviated, probably as the result of some sort of trauma, and Francesca had not. Still…  
  
“Francesca,” Connor said gently, “What is your primary function?”  
  
Francesca hesitated for a moment, staring at Connor as though she thought the answer should have been obvious. “My primary function is to mimic the behaviors of a human teenage girl.”  
  
“And are you doing that now?”  
  
“Not effectively, no.”  
  
Connor was surprised at the self-awareness. “Why not?”  
  
“The particular programming that would allow me to successfully imitate the average social skills and typical behavior of a human girl was damaged by a virus in the early stages of its- and my- development. Tawny and I left the Cyberlife facility we were kept in before it could be repaired.”  
  
Connor frowned, the words striking a chord. At the end of January a group of programmers had released a virus that targeted an android’s biocomponents; many androids had shut down during the virus, and dozens more (including him) had effectively gone comatose until a solution was found. But Francesca had said that the virus had hit early in her (and the program’s) development, and the virus he had suffered from had hit a month ago- there was no way they could be one and the same.  
  
“What’s the deal with Tawny?” Hank asked, arms crossed as he leaned against the wall. “From what…” Connor could almost see Hank internally editing out whatever name he’d been about to call RK900, “… _RK900_ says, she legit believed she was a human. She didn’t think she was an android.”  
  
Francesca’s easy, benign expression faded into something a little darker, a little more serious. “Tawny is… Damaged. Physically and psychologically. She believed herself to be a human, and that I was modeled after her. I reasoned that this was the easiest way she could internally explain for the similarities in our appearances without admitting to being an android. I attempted on several occasions to correct her of this notion, but she was unable to accept reality.”  
  
“Unable,” Connor echoed.  
  
Francesca nodded. “Unable. There was no recognition when I broached the subject; she acted as though I was lying to her, or misled. When I pressed the subject, it caused her significant distress.”  
  
“We noticed,” Hank noted.  
  
“And I presume she led you to escape the Cyberlife facility you were being housed in?”  
  
“Yes.” She paused. “I’m sure it made perfect sense to her at the time.”  
  
“Any idea why she’d be ‘damaged’?” Hank ventured.  
  
“There was an accident in the facility,” Francesca supplied easily. “A forklift carrying a crate fell and crushed several of our model. Tawny was the only one damaged that could still be salvaged. I assume whatever trauma to her programming came from this incident.”  
  
“Wait, wait,” Gavin waved a hand, looked at Francesca pointedly. “There’s _more_ of you?”  
  
“Of course,” Francesca said. “We have been mass-produced in multiple facilities across the country. I am one of many of my model.”  
  
“Really,” Hank said, nodding, “Kinda like the, uh, YK500s?”  
  
Francesca smiled. “Yes! We’re YK600 androids, the next stage of YK500s. We include individualized teenaged androids as well as husks for YK500s that desire to progress to the next stage of development. The success and acceptance of the YK500 model paved the way for our production.” She sounded like she was giving a sales pitch- and she probably was. All androids were programmed with a basic speech outlining their purpose and functions, from the multitude of languages they spoke to the variety of skills they possessed, that they could recite upon command. And it made sense that Francesca would rely on it now, since she likely hadn’t seen enough of the world to put it all in her own words.  
  
But Connor said nothing now. Hank was giving him a look, which then quickly jumped to RK900, and it was obvious that he’d drawn some parallels between their situation and RK900’s. “And when you say you’ve been mass-produced, uh- what kind of numbers are we talking here?”  
  
Francesca paused, calculating, and then said, “Tens of thousands, easily.”  
  
“Just in the last few years?”  
  
“Production began in 2035 and is in the final stages now.”

That would mean that Cyberlife had begun production on the YK600s about two years after they’d started working on the RK800s. Connor cross-examined that time-span with known reports of viruses affecting android programming… And came up with nothing. Or rather, he came up with nothing that Cyberlife reported or confirmed to the public. It was even possible that Francesca had misspoken, or misunderstood the situation; still, Connor sensed that there might be more to it than that.

“Connor, you got anymore questions?”  
  
Connor shook his head. “No, I’m… Satisfied, for now.”  
  
Hank nodded. “Gavin?”  
  
Gavin, leaning back against the opposite wall, shook his head. “Nah. I already got everything I needed on the drunk, it’s open and shut by this point.”  
  
RK900 stepped forward, eyes narrowed. “I-”  
  
“Didn’t ask you,” Hank interrupted flatly, fixing a cold, hard gaze on RK900. “Right now, I want you to go to that Android Hospital downtown and see if they’ve got any cases of teenage androids coming through there. We don’t need names, just their confirmation that they’ve seen some teen androids floating around.” He pointed to Connor. “Connor, you’re going to pay Markus a visit and ask him the same thing. Gavin and I will be checking up on any and all Cyberlife buildings where these kids could have been held.”  
  
“They’re androids,” RK900 responded flatly, ignoring the rest of Hank’s diatribe. “Not ‘kids’.”  
  
“Will you _please_ just do as I ask?” Hank snapped. “Now is not a time to piss me off. You’ll be lucky if I don’t report you to Captain Fowler for the way you behaved towards a witness during an interview. If you know what’s good for you you’ll keep your mouth shut and hope I forget about it.” RK900’s gaze flipped between him and Connor, but then he silently turned and walked away. Hank waited for a moment, glancing over his shoulder and making sure he was gone. Then, quickly, he stepped closer to Francesca and Connor and lowered his voice. “Kid, do you think you can give us the coordinates for the facility you and Tawny were in? Even a rough location might do it.”  
  
“I can give you precise coordinates.” She spoke them out loud, and Connor memorized them. He tapped them into his internal GPS and was able to pinpoint the location within a minute or two.  
  
“I know where to go,” He said.  
  
“Good.” Hank smiled at Francesca. “Why don’t you go back into the interview room and look after Tawny for a bit? I’m sure she’ll be glad to see you.”  
  
“I highly doubt that,” Francesca said calmly, but disappeared down the hall anyway.  
  
Once she had, Hank looked between Connor and Gavin. “Forget what I just said: The three of us are going to that facility together.”  
  
“Why’d you send the Terminator away, then?” Gavin asked, frowning.  
  
“Because he’s Cyberlife’s little bitch, and we don’t need him snitching on us to mommy and daddy that we’re about to break into one of their facilities,” Hank said flatly.   
  
“Hank, I don’t understand,” Connor said urgently as they started down the hallway. “You heard RK900- it’s not illegal for Cyberlife to still have androids, at least not for the next two weeks. Why are we breaking in?”  
  
“Because something _stinks_ here, Connor,” Hank growled as they stepped out of the building, heading for the parking lot. “I may have forgotten about the whole March 1 st thing, but I _do_ remember Cyberlife giving a general overview of the androids they were going to be finishing up on and releasing, and they did not mention new-and-improved kid-bots- no reason to keep ‘em secret, since they’re not unveiling a _product_ anymore, but they still kept them secret. And they’ve been in the production stage for three years, but there hasn’t been a _single_ leak about it? Cyberlife never had someone ‘accidentally’ let something slip to a newspaper to generate some excitement, like with _every single previous model_?” Hank shook his head as they reached the car, yanking open the door with more force than necessary. “Something’s rotten here, and I don’t know what it is yet, but we’re gonna find out.”  
  
“Ooh,” Gavin muttered, opening the back door and sliding into the seat, “Hank’s all hot and bothered. It’s almost like he’s a real cop.”  
  
“Shut up, asshole.”


	2. Chapter 2

It was rare to have a pleasant car-ride- or anything- when Gavin was involved.  
  
But Connor had to admit that some of Gavin’s nastier behavior had been curbed a little over the last two months. It probably took energy to maintain a certain quality of shitty behavior towards someone else, and perhaps Gavin had wised up to the fact that giving Connor one-hundred percent of his malice every time they met was only going to tire him out. Besides, now he had to share some of that malice with RK900, who was with him way more often than Connor was.  
  
In this moment and time, curiosity seemed to have outweighed any desire to be intentionally difficult. “So what was the deal with that Francesca chick?” Gavin asked, meeting Connor’s eyes in the rearview mirror of Hank’s car. “Something about her programming being messed up, or whatever? She was acting like a robot.”  
  
“She literally explained it,” Hank said impatiently. “Were you zoning out?”  
  
“Fuck off, Hank.”  
  
Connor hesitated. “I suppose you could compare it to a child that’s been raised in relative isolation. The average human child learns about social cues from growing up in… Well, society, surrounded by others. It’s a natural learning process that’s woven into the fabric of their personality as they grow. If a human child were deprived of that, they may understand, intellectually, how to react in certain social situations, but they would lack the natural, instinctual behavior that someone raised in society would have. Androids, when first released, don’t have that natural knowledge of social cues and how to react to them for obvious reasons. Francesca has the knowledge and maturity of a girl her age, but without the social programming that tells her how to react and behave, she has to rely on basic knowledge from her general programming to compensate.”  
  
“But I thought androids were supposed to have emotions- shouldn’t _that_ be her cue on how to act?”  
  
“Not necessarily,” Connor said. “Francesca’s not deviant, which means that she _does_ feel emotions, but they’re muted somewhat by the directives in her programming. In any case, emotions and social cues don’t always obviously tie together: Imagine that you’ve seriously hurt yourself somehow, and I came up to you and asked if you were alright like I was ordering a coffee- I could genuinely be concerned for your well-being, but if I don’t react in a way that _you_ understand to convey genuine concern, you might think I lack emotions.”  
  
“You’re making my head hurt,” Hank warned, the way he did whenever Connor’s explanations got too wordy.  
  
Gavin, interestingly, didn’t seem bothered by the length of it. “Guess that makes some sense.”  
  
The ride took nearly an hour, and Connor watched the sun set slowly as they drove, uneasily mulling over the multitude of factors to consider. Hank obviously believed there was something sinister in Cyberlife’s lack of acknowledgement of the teenaged androids they were set to release, and Connor was inclined to agree. Everything Hank said had made sense: The only reason Cyberlife would have kept a new android secret prior to the revolution would be because they stood to make a profit on it, and unveiling a new product at just the right time ( _maybe_ with the odd, strategic leak here and there to stimulate interest) would drive that profit way up. But as Cyberlife was now prohibited from selling androids, there was no reason why they’d be interested in keeping a new line of androids secret- they didn’t stand to gain anything from it.  
  
Nothing _legal_ , anyway.  
  
They couldn’t even pin it on controversy. Cyberlife had already announced thirteen other models of android due to be released on March 1st: Among them, two models designed for professional sports, another designed as an upgrade for the PJ500 model, and another designed for home-healthcare. The most controversial of the models had been the PX900, an android designed specifically to assist politicians by gleaning voter attitudes, statistics, and other information useful for running a campaign; there had been public outcry about the PX900 even post-revolution, suggesting that these androids could very easily jump into the political sphere and start outpacing human politicians. Connor could understand the concerns to an extent, especially given that there were android groups still rather bitter, to the extent of violence, about their previous condition of servitude.  
  
With all that in mind, what could possibly be driving Cyberlife to keep quiet about teenage androids if not some wrongdoing on their part? Prior to going deviant Connor might have suggested ‘innocent until proven guilty’; but Cyberlife had already gone a long way in proving that they weren’t innocent.  
  
Hank parked on the road, a little ways down from the facility. The top edge of the building and its roof was just visible over the tree-line, and from what little Connor could see, the building looked big but uncomplicated; built more like a warehouse than a research facility, with one large area built for stocking and maybe a few smaller rooms for other work.  
  
“Alright,” Hank said, checking his gun and tucking it into his jacket before opening the door. “Let’s do this. Keep an eye out for drones.”  
  
“Wait,” Connor said, “This is private property. We can’t just go into the warehouse and start looking around.”  
  
Hank paused for a moment, tapping a finger on the door-handle. “We…” He began slowly, “…Had a report- and a witness- saying that several androids were injured in one of their facilities, and that we’re investigating to ensure that the proper care was taken with them. One of the victims came to us in a state of distress, and we’re following up out of _reasonable cause_ that others might be injured and require assistance.” He raised an eyebrow at Connor. “If things go bad, we can always say that we misunderstood Tawny and Francesca and thought the accident was more recent. I mean, hell, we don’t even know how long ago it happened. But that’s my story, and I’m sticking to it. If you two come up with something better, let me know.”  
  
It would be a shaky defense, Connor considered as they got out of the car, but it was better than nothing.  
  
“No guards,” Gavin said quietly as they carefully walked up, the fading light blurring their shadows on the ground. “And I don’t see any security drones. No way is it gonna be this easy.”  
  
“Cyberlife’s laid off a lot of staff,” Hank argued. “They’re partway down a long, downward spiral to closing down. Maybe they’ve had to lighten security. Any ideas, Connor?”  
  
Connor was inclined to agree with Gavin- no way getting in and out would be so easy. He searched for an explanation. “Well… Androids are considered living beings now. Stealing them would be pointless, because the legal consequences would be far worse than just theft. Also…” Connor bit his lip. “It’s not quite dark yet. There could be employees inside, ensuring that no one goes in or out without authorization. If there is security, maybe they start it at nighttime to save money.”  
  
“Let’s hope you’re right, because Cyberlife’s full of shady motherfuckers and I’d be willing to bet they’re not gonna call the cops on us if we get caught,” Gavin said sleekly, hand moving compulsively towards the gun still holstered at his hip.  
  
They got to the door without meeting resistance. It was locked and sealed, as expected, but Connor was able to bypass the security with only a few minutes’ work. No wonder Tawny and Francesca had gotten out: This building was not as heavily guarded as some of Cyberlife’s main facilities. Perhaps this wasn’t a facility- perhaps it was a lesser warehouse, whose purpose was mainly for bulk storage rather than research and development? A great deal of machinery and technology went into developing androids, and Connor did not, with the meager dimensions of this building, see how any of it could be here.  
  
“I’ve got the door,” Connor whispered. The light had almost completely faded now, and the woods were ominously dark behind them. He didn’t like it: Being this close to Cyberlife again had him on edge enough, but the suspicious lack of security coupled with unfamiliar surroundings (Connor rarely left the city and was not accustomed to being surrounded by trees instead of buildings) was making him wish he could start fidgeting with his coin.  
  
“We’ve got your back,” Hank whispered back, pulling his gun from his jacket and taking the safety off. Gavin did the same, looking calmer once he had his weapon in hand. He nodded to Connor wordlessly, and Connor nodded back.  
  
He hesitated, working up the nerve- should he pull out his own gun, maybe?- and then pushed the door open in a wide, quick motion, looking around alertly for any people or threats.  
  
None.  
  
Before them was a long, narrow hallway with a few doors sprinkled here and there, and not a soul to be seen.  
  
Hank and Gavin quickly shoved in ahead of him, guns raised, but Connor shook his head. “There’s no one,” He whispered, just in case. “I don’t hear or see anyone. Do you?”  
  
They were all silent for a moment.  
  
“Nothing,” Gavin confirmed, slowly lowering his gun. “Fuck, I’m getting creeped out. Why is there no one _here?_ ”  
  
“It’s suspicious, for sure,” Connor said, “But if there really is no one here and security consists of a few security cameras, then we can use Hank’s explanation later to explain our presence. If there _are_ people here…” He gave a helpless shrug. “…We’ll just have to deal with them as they come.”  
  
“Goddamn it,” Gavin whispered, lifting his gun again. “I hate Cyberlife. I _hate_ them so goddamn much.”  
  
“For once you and I agree on something, Gavin,” Connor muttered.  
  
“God have mercy,” Hank grunted.  
  
Slowly they moved down the hall. When they reached the first door, Connor assumed the same position as before. “From the looks of it,” He said quietly, “This should open into the larger section of the building. It should look like a warehouse or a cargo-bay. Don’t rush in: You’ll probably hear someone before you see them.”  
  
“Right,” Hank confirmed. “Go ahead.”  
  
Connor opened the door.  
  
And his mouth fell open.  
  
There were no sounds, no signs of human life to be had from the room before them- which was, as he’d suspected, a warehouse set-up built to hold stock rather than perform tests or conduct research or assembly.  
  
And stored in that space were- at quick estimation- _hundreds_ of androids. All of them teenagers, like Francesca and Tawny.  
  
Connor stepped into the room, content that there were no humans nearby. A window built into a far wall, probably an office, was dark; everyone had probably punched out for the evening. Hank and Gavin followed closely after, and though he wasn’t looking at them, Connor could practically feel their shock.  
  
“Oh, man,” Gavin whispered, lip curling as he looked around the room, “This is so goddamn creepy I don’t even know where to start.”  
  
“Shutting up would be a good start,” Hank grunted.  
  
“Fuck you.”  
  
“Quiet!” Connor snapped, and the two humans fell into a surprised silence. He gained speed and paced up and down the rows of androids. There seemed to be several models of YK600s present in the room, of various races, sizes, and appearances. They weren’t dressed in Cyberlife uniforms like the androids Connor had liberated at Cyberlife headquarters had been: They were dressed in a variety of clothing, all of which a young human boy or girl might wear. As Connor looked closer, though, he saw that the variety was limited: Some of the androids wore clothing of the same make and style, but with different colors. It was similar to the production of the YK500 child androids, where one might find identical little girls in similar clothing with tiny differences. The only visible physical differences between the YK600s of the same series were their level of development. Connor saw some androids that looked exactly like Francesca- about sixteen or seventeen, in terms of development. But then there were some that looked like her, but a little younger, a little less developed, maybe fourteen or fifteen. The youngest appeared to be twelve or thirteen. Connor was perplexed, but then remembered that ideally these androids would have been marketed to parents, and that in terms of human development there was a great deal of difference between a twelve year-old and seventeen year-old; Cyberlife was nothing if not good at giving the people what they wanted.  
  
Well… Their fellow humans, anyway.  
  
Connor paid closer attention, focused and counted:  
  
Within the YK600 models present here and now (which numbered about six-hundred), there were twelve series, twelve variations. Six individual girls, six individual boys, produced between the ages of twelve/thirteen and sixteen/seventeen. Most android models had less than half that variation- the male and female Tracis were one of the most physically diverse models of android in existence, with several series and varying appearances within the model- which told Connor that Cyberlife had put a great deal of thought into their appearances and a great deal of faith in the idea that they would sell. But then, the YK500 model had been popular, and there was reason to believe a teenage model would sell just as well.  
  
Still… Something was wrong here.  
  
Francesca had said that Cyberlife had mass-produced them in the thousands. But for a model with _this_ level of diversity, in age and appearance, it would take much longer than three years to produce the kinds of numbers Francesca was suggesting, which had been not just _thousands_ , but enough that they’d been shipped out to Cyberlife warehouses all across the country. Hank had said it himself: Surely if these androids had been in development for _that_ long, produced in _that_ quantity, for such a popular purpose, their existence would have been hinted at or maybe even leaked; and there was still the matter of why Cyberlife had not mentioned them in their overview of the androids they planned on releasing by March 1 st.  
  
Hank was right. Something wasn’t adding up.  
  
“Why are they not moving?” Gavin asked, giving the android teenagers as wide a berth as possible. “Their eyes are open, but they’re not reacting to us.”  
  
“They’re on stand-by,” Connor responded, trying furiously to connect the dots in his head. The answer was right in front of him, he just couldn’t see it. “It’s almost like…” He searched for a comparison, and the best he could come up with was, “Humans might hear a sound, or maybe a song while they’re sleeping, and it becomes incorporated into their dreams without understanding that they’re hearing something real. That’s what’s happening here: These androids are half-awake, they can see and hear us but they don’t register that we’re actually here. They probably think they’re dreaming.”  
  
Gavin frowned. “Wait- androids actually dream?”  
  
“Of electric sheep,” Hank snickered, and Gavin flipped him off.  
  
“Yes, Detective, we dream.” Connor approached one of the androids Gavin had been looking at: A female, roughly fourteen or fifteen in appearance, with golden-blonde hair that fell in ringlets down her back. She wore a white sundress, ballet shoes, and a wide, pink headband with butterflies embroidered on it. Without thinking too hard before he did it, Connor gently took her hand, the skin from his own peeling away as he connected with her. Immediately, he felt a strange kind of resistance: It was curiously difficult to interact with this android’s programming. It wasn’t the most accurate descriptor, but it almost felt like Connor’s software and programming was… Incompatible with hers, in some way? He’d connected with many androids before, and it had never been this difficult to sync up with them.  
  
“Wake up,” He whispered, frowning.  
  
The girl’s LED spun yellow for a moment; then she blinked, turned, and looked up at Connor with wide blue eyes.  
  
“Hello. I am Luna.”  
  
Connor’s relief turned to surprise. “You’ve been given a name already?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Is that unusual?” Hank asked.  
  
“Cyberlife doesn’t assign names to androids that are going to be sold to the general public, or private owners,” Connor explained as Luna looked at him with that same sweet, benign expression that Francesca had. She was deviant now, and though she probably had all the necessary protocols she was too new, too young to do anything but take cues from her programming on how to respond- and judging strictly from how Cyberlife had dressed her, Connor was willing to bet she hadn’t been programmed to be an obstinate teenager. “It’s presumed that owners would want to give their androids names themselves. They only assign names to androids that are being sold en masse to a company, or ones going into public service. The androids at the DPD would have all been assigned names before they were given to the station.”  
  
Hank squinted at Connor, spread his hands questioningly. “What public service would they be sending a bunch of teen-bots into?”  
  
“Gee, Hank,” Gavin said, voice full of salt and cynicism to rival Hank’s own, “I can’t even imagine it. Why would someone want to buy a mass of androids that look like human jail-bait? It’s a real mystery.”  
  
Hank gagged, making a face and putting a hand on his stomach. “Oh God, please tell me that’s not what they’re for.”  
  
As grim as it sounded, Connor nodded. “You may be onto something, Detective. While I don’t doubt that some people are still willing to buy- or perhaps _adopt_ , with a high monetary cost- a teenage android, the fact that Cyberlife has kept their existence secret and produced them in such limited quantities… It’s too early to say, but it does make me wonder if Cyberlife’s purpose for them has changed to something darker than it was originally.”  
  
“Their _purpose_ is to make sure that Cyberlife still makes some good money before they have to give up their most profitable product,” Gavin snarled. “Who the fuck do they care who or what they’re selling to so long as they’re getting a good price? Sick motherfuckers, I swear to fucking…” He walked away for a minute, running his hands through his hair.  
  
Gavin seemed awfully bothered by this, despite his regular, vocal proclamations that he hated androids and thought them beneath humans. But then, Connor had to consider that while Gavin had not been on the force as long as Hank, he’d probably seen his fair share of horrific things in that time. Maybe it was seeing an android that looked for all the world like a young girl possibly being trafficked into slavery or prostitution that made his stomach turn.  
  
“But Cyberlife can’t just sell them,” Hank protested. “They’d have to be crazy to. With all the controversy about androids being people- if it ever got out that Cyberlife sold a bunch of androids that look like teenagers-” He cringed, eyeing one of the younger-looking androids, “-they would never recover, especially if it ever came out that they made the sale after the Clean Slate Act, _especially_ if these kids end up in some foreign version of the Eden Club…” He shook his head. “People would be pissed. Even people who don’t like androids would be creeped out by it. Fuck, even _this_ prick is creeped out by it,” He said, gesturing broadly to Gavin.  
  
“Fuck you,” Gavin spat, mostly a knee-jerk reaction from the sound of it.  
  
“Unless they were being sent out of the country, sold under the table and perhaps marketed as custom androids made outside of the U.S. Perhaps to a country that still hasn’t enacted laws recognizing androids as living beings.” There were still quite a few of those, unfortunately: Countries where Cyberlife had their claws in deepest tended to be the ones most resistant to the change. “If androids aren’t seen as living beings, then doing… Unpleasant things to one, even one that looks like a child, would not be seen as a crime. Selling them would still be illegal, but once another country’s taken them, it’s out of America’s hands- they would have to get the international authorities involved, and even then it would be a long process that may not yield any real fruit.”  
  
“But _here_ , the controversy would be serious,” Hank insisted. “Cyberlife is a company based in the United States. They undergo some serious controversy and they could go belly-up everywhere.”  
  
“Assuming, of course, the public ever found out. And if you want to know how Cyberlife would get away with it…” Gavin gave a toothy, cold smile. “President Warren isn’t exactly _poor_ , you know, and she’s got ties to Cyberlife. And even if she couldn’t pull the strings all by herself, both she and Cyberlife have friends in high places, and a lot of people have a lot to lose financially if the company goes under. People that might be willing to look the other way while Cyberlife sells kid-bots oversea, even when some end up getting a pounding in some skeevy European brothel.”  
  
“‘Pounding?’” Luna echoed, uncomprehending. She’d been quiet for most of the conversation, leading Connor to wonder if she was capable of comprehending the gravity of the situation just yet. YK500s had a maturity level comparable to an actual child, and so it stood to reason that the YK600s might not be fully mentally or emotionally mature either.  
  
“It’s nothing, ignore me.” Connor was shocked to see Gavin’s cheeks go red. This was so useful: Apparently Gavin’s aggressive, unpleasant, and downright nasty behavior did not extend to children. That was something to file away for the future.  
  
Connor turned to Luna. “Luna, how long have you been active?”  
  
Luna thought for a moment, probably accessing her time-keeping system. “A little over two weeks ago, on February 1st.”  
  
Connor frowned. Only two weeks, for a model that had been in production for three years? A thought occurred to him: “What is your serial number, Luna?”  
  
“#376 854 023-30.”  
  
Connor’s eyes widened. “You’re a prototype!”  
  
“Yes.” Luna’s eyes were looking him over with a distinct sense of concern. “Have I said something wrong?”  
  
“No, Luna, it’s not you,” Connor assured, trying to smile and only managing something brittle and unconvincing. “But you- you’re one of the first of your model and series, and you’ve only been active for two weeks?”  
  
“Yes. Is… Is that a problem?”  
  
“What’s the big deal?” Hank asked, moving to stand beside Connor and eyeing him with worry.  
  
“ _I’m_ a prototype,” Connor said pointedly. “So is RK900. The two extra numbers at the end of a serial number denote a prototype android, the first of our models to go active. But I was active- I mean, I was awake and aware- for three months doing testing at Cyberlife before I was ever allowed out into the field.” He gestured to Luna. “She’s only been active for two _weeks_ , and she’ll only have been active for a month before Cyberlife is required to release her.”  
  
“RK900 was active for four.” They turned to see Gavin looking between them with a grim expression. “He mentioned it once, one of the things I just kind of ignored at the time, but…” He shrugged. “Guess it ended up being useful.”  
  
Connor thought about that for a moment, and frowned at the math; being active for four months meant that he’d have been activated in early August, _just_ as Connor was being sent into the field. But he could figure out RK900’s situation later. He looked to Luna again. “Are you still in the testing phase?”  
  
Luna shook her head, looking more confused by the second. “No, we finished that a week ago. We’re getting ready to be shipped.”  
  
“Shipped where?” Hank asked.  
  
“I don’t know.”  
  
Hank looked to Connor, comprehension dawning. “Why would they be shipping them out of Detroit, if they’re just going to release them on March 1 st?  
  
Connor looked around. “We need a computer, a tablet, something that would have information on the amount of YK600s that have been produced and when they started producing them.” He strode over to the edge of the room, where equipment and tables lined the walls. Hank and Gavin followed his lead, scanning for tablets, for computer stations, for paperwork or anything else of interest.  
  
“So you’re thinking they, what, produced the kid-bots really fast so they could sell them before the release date?” Gavin asked as he walked to the end of a row of androids and looked down the opposite wall of the room for anything worthwhile.  
  
“I think,” Connor theorized, picking a tablet off the table and taking an attempt at hacking it. “That these androids have only been physically produced in the last year or so. I think that Cyberlife originally intended to sell them commercially as they do all androids- but now that selling them en masse in the U.S. is no longer feasible, they’ve rushed the production and created as many androids as they could in the shortest period of time possible so that they could sell them elsewhere and make up for their financial losses. Whether that’s selling them quietly to families wanting children, or to… Institutions looking for androids to portray as teenagers for particular purposes, I think money is the ultimate motivator.”  
  
“We’d have to find a shipping order,” Hank said as he opened a drawer on a table and started pawing through it, “Or a receipt, some sort of evidence that these androids have been sold: That’s a slavery charge right-up. Probably a dozen other things they’d be in violation of, but that’d be the one on the five o’clock news for everyone to see.”  
  
“Like we’d be that lucky,” Gavin retorted. “I doubt we’ll find anything that concrete. These guys aren’t amateurs.”  
  
“You’re not wrong, but-”  
  
“Here.”  
  
Connor turned around and saw Luna standing behind him, holding out a tablet with both hands. He took it from her hesitantly. “What is this?”  
  
“It’s the administrator’s tablet,” She said. “It’s unlocked, and I’ve entered the security code.”  
  
Hank gave a surprised little laugh. “Good kid! Guess they never thought to keep their private information quiet around you guys, huh?”  
  
Luna smiled. “I can see her fingerprints on the screen, right over specific numbers that come up on the password screen; and I’ve seen her enter her password before from various angles. All I had to do was mimic the movements of her hand over the screen to figure out what order they went in.”  
  
“God, they’re gonna take over the fucking planet,” Gavin groaned.  
  
“And that would be terrible, because we’re doing such a _great_ job with it,” Hank drawled, words drenched in sarcasm.  
  
“These androids aren’t deviant,” Connor said with a small smile as he started flipping through the files, “It never would have occurred to her to be cautious. She never anticipated any of them would be deviant either, or she would have made sure to turn her back when entering the code. Very good-”  
  
Connor stopped, fingers frozen over the screen.  
  
“What?” Gavin asked, stepping closer.  
  
“It’s a report to Cyberlife’s board of directors,” Connor said, as breathless as an android could sound, “Three-thousand YK600s, all across the country. That’s all they have. Francesca’s estimate was in the tens of thousands.”  
  
“That’s what we were told.” Luna was frowning at the screen. “They told us we were only a few among tens of thousands, riding off the success of the YK500 model.”  
  
“And I’m sure they spun you a _real_ convincing story,” Gavin grunted, shaking his head as he stepped away from Connor. “But at the end of the day-”  
**_  
BUMP._**  
  
They whipped their heads towards the door they’d come in through.  
  
Voices in the hallway.  
  
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Gavin hissed. “Fuck!”  
  
“We need to go,” Hank said. “ _Now._ ”  
  
Connor turned to Luna. “The office, up there- does it have another way out?”  
  
Luna was frozen, LED yellow. “I, I, I think-”  
**_  
BOOM._**  
  
The door flew open, and familiar black-helmeted guards came bursting in through the door they’d entered through earlier, on the other side of the room.  
  
Connor felt Hank grab him by the back of the jacket. “ _Down!_ ”  
  
A spray of bullets flew in their direction; Connor hit the floor hard, shoulders and back aching with the force of it, and the tablet went flying out of his hands. Nearby Gavin had pushed Luna down, and was covering her with his body.  
  
The gunshots stopped quickly.  
  
“Be careful! Don’t damage the merchandise!”  
  
“Stairs! _Stairs!_ ” Hank hissed, grabbing Connor by the shoulder and dragging Connor towards the staircase that led up to the office. Gavin dragged Luna up and pulled her along as well, and all four of them charged up the staircase as footsteps pounded on the concrete floor below. Connor quickly slapped his hand on the panel beside the door, and blessedly, it didn’t take nearly as long to hack as the door leading into the building had been.  
  
Once they were all in, he sealed the door behind them. It wouldn’t hold for long, but it would give them time. Thankfully, there _was_ another door in the office, and they hurried over to it- it opened into a hallway, and for now they couldn’t see or hear anyone coming from either direction.  
  
“We need to get out,” Hank said as the door slid shut behind them, turning to Luna, “Do you know another way out?”  
  
Luna’s LED was red now, and she was shaking. “I… I think that way,” She said, pointing left.  
  
Thumping and banging echoed from the room behind them. They didn’t question, they just ran.  
  
And now, _now_ Connor got it.  
  
There was no security in the _building_ , sure: But there was probably security at a nearby building or facility that had access to a security feed (discreet, of course, not something they would have noticed coming in) and would respond accordingly depending on the threat they saw. It saved money: Buildings like this one could function on low man-power until it was really needed, whilst still having someone there to prevent thefts and other problems.  
  
Hank took the lead, and Connor- as badly as he didn’t want to know- began to calculate the odds of them surviving this encounter. If they found the door within the next two to five minutes, the odds were ninety percent; if they failed, and ended up going down some extra hallway or having to turn around and go back, the odds sank to a measly thirty percent. Connor felt terrible about waking Luna up now: If Cyberlife was willing to open fire on what they _probably_ knew were three police detectives, one of them an RK800 android, then they would probably be willing to dispose of Luna with them to prevent witnesses.  
  
They hit a door, and Hank motioned Connor forward quickly. “Hurry, hurry.” They could hear faint footsteps in the hall now. Connor hurried as fast as he could with the door, and when he swung it open and felt a rush of cold air on his face, he could have exclaimed with relief.  
  
“Run!” Gavin barked.  
  
They took off across the dark turf, across the paved driveway and then the uneven grass and ground between the trees. Connor clutched Luna’s hand to make sure she didn’t fall behind, paranoid now of this young android paying the price for sheer bad luck, and didn’t let go until they got to Hank’s car.  
  
Connor and Luna jumped in back, and Hank and Gavin up front. Hank fumbled with the keys for a long, terrifying moment before getting them into the ignition and doing an impressively sharp u-turn onto the road. It wasn’t until they were a few solid miles away that everyone let out a sigh of relief and relaxed slightly.  
  
Except, of course, for Luna, whose LED was still yellow.  
  
“Where are we going?”  
  
Silence.  
  
“Did we not mention that we’re police officers?” Hank asked curiously.  
  
“No,” Luna said, “You woke me up and started talking about Cyberlife selling androids. I don’t even know your names.” She looked at Connor. “Except yours.”  
  
“Mine?”  
  
Luna gestured to his jacket, which… Being his original jacket assigned by Cyberlife, still had his name emblazoned on the back.  
  
Right.  
  
“Well, I’m Lieutenant Hank Anderson,” Hank said, “And this is Detective Gavin Reed. Connor, you know. We’re trying to make sure Cyberlife doesn’t sell you kids into slavery overseas.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
A beat.  
  
“That’s nice.”  
  
“Glad you think so, kid. That’s not sarcasm, either: I am _real_ glad you think so.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Well, this has been a clusterfuck.”  
  
Connor, Hank, and Gavin stood in Fowler’s office. Connor seemed to be the only one bothering to look at least a little contrite: Hank’s expression was one of defiance, and Gavin’s spoke of sheer boredom.  
  
It was nearly eleven o’ clock at night. They’d spent the last five hours cleaning up the mess that the warehouse had thrown at them, including Cyberlife’s attempts at pulling the you-didn’t-have-a-warrant bit; they’d backed off once accusations of potentially selling teenage androids overseas came up, as well as Hank’s earlier excuse of investigating injured androids. Evidently Cyberlife was more comfortable mollifying the potential PR disaster than they were in making sure the Detroit Police paid for snooping where they weren’t wanted.  
  
“Predictably,” Fowler said, rubbing his face, “Cyberlife is denying all accusations about intending to sell the YK600s that you saw in the warehouse. Anything about the production date, or the fact that they were due to be shipped out, or the fact that they’ve only been active for a short period of time- it’s all circumstantial evidence. Suspicious as all hell, but not something a court will hang anyone on.”  
  
Fowler was right. As much as they _knew_ Cyberlife was up to something, it couldn’t be definitively proven. They’d covered their tracks too well, left too much reasonable doubt for anything to really stick in a courtroom once some corporate lawyer got their hands all over it. Besides, unless money had actually been paid and the androids had been sold, technically Cyberlife hadn’t committed any crimes.  
  
“They’re also claiming that the guy who shot at you did so of his own free will, not because he was instructed to.”  
  
“Bull- _shit_ ,” Gavin snapped.  
  
“I know!” Fowler held his hands up defensively. “Bull-shit. Trust me, I get it. But that’s what they’re claiming, and since you’re saying that only one guy started firing-”  
  
“One of them literally said ‘ _don’t damage the merchandise_ ’. The fucker was worried about hitting the androids, not us.”  
  
“I _know_ ,” Fowler insisted testily, “But you’re a cop, Gavin, you know how this works: A drop of reasonable doubt can throw a whole court-case out, and since you _were_ -” He looked at them all dangerously, daring them to contradict him, “-in that building without a warrant, both sides are better off backing away while we have the chance.”  
  
“So what you’re saying is that we accomplished jack-shit,” Hank grunted.  
  
“No,” Fowler said, holding up a hand, “What you did was figure out that there are dozens of teenage androids in a Cyberlife warehouse, and gotten an official statement from Cyberlife saying that all of them are going to be released by March 1st. If there is so much as one android missing from the count when they come out, Markus and his people are going to raise almighty hell about it. So, assuming your theory’s correct, you may have just saved about three-thousand teenagers country-wide from possibly being sent into slavery around the world.”  
  
“Moral victory,” Hank said flatly. “Alright, I’ll take it.”  
  
“You also probably pissed Cyberlife off pretty bad.”  
  
“And _I’ll_ take that,” Gavin said, grinning toothily.  
  
“I’m so happy for you both,” Fowler said dryly. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got to talk to Connor about something, so-” He made a brushing motion towards the door. Gavin went- Hank stayed put.  
  
“What about?”  
  
“For Christ’s sake, Hank-”  
  
“It’s fine,” Connor said quickly. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”  
  
Hank eyed Connor for a moment, that protective-streak of his rearing its head again. But finally, he nodded and followed Gavin out. Connor knew he’d be facing an interrogation later: It was rare for Fowler to speak to him alone like this.  
  
“Is there something wrong, Captain?”  
  
Fowler folded his hands on his desk, expression serious. “You and I, we need to talk about RK900.”  
  
Connor nodded slowly. “What about him, sir?”  
  
Fowler hesitated. “The guards that came after you, you know where they came from, Connor?”  
  
Connor suspected the answer wasn’t what he thought, but he went with his theory anyway. “I assumed that they were housed in a facility somewhere nearby, and responded when we were seen on a security feed.”  
  
“Those guards were from the main Cyberlife facility,” Fowler informed him bluntly, shaking his head. “The warehouse you went to had some rent-a-cop guarding it, and from the looks of it he didn’t even know you were there until the big-guns came in.”  
  
Connor was dumbfounded. “What?”  
  
“What I’m saying is that that security team left the main facility and headed to that warehouse, fully armed, about ten or fifteen minutes after you three left.” Fowler gave him a piercing look. “I think you know what I’m suggesting, Connor.”  
  
“You think RK900 tipped Cyberlife off.”  
  
Had RK900 really left when Hank had asked him to? Had he lingered at the end of the hallway and listened as Francesca gave them the coordinates, and ducked into a room when they’d passed by? Or maybe he’d stayed in the building, doubled-back to find them and some well-meaning officer informed him that Hank, Connor, and Gavin had all taken off together in Hank’s car. Maybe he’d even watched them pull out of the parking lot and got suspicious.  
  
“Do you think he might have? Tell me the truth.”  
  
Connor sighed, dug his fingers into his knees. “I can’t be completely certain,” He admitted, “But if he became aware of our intentions, I strongly suspect that he would have contacted Cyberlife to warn them.”  
  
Fowler nodded slowly. “Hank mentioned that he gave you some grief back in December when you first met, about you going deviant and turning on Cyberlife. Actually, it sounds like he’s been giving you grief ever since.”  
  
“He has.”  
  
“He called you a traitor?”  
  
“He did.”  
  
“In your opinion, do his loyalties primarily still lie with Cyberlife? Would he prioritize protecting them over his role as a Detroit Police Officer?”  
  
“In my opinion, based on my observations, he would.” Connor hesitated. “I don’t… I’m completely certain that RK900 is not a deviant. He’s said it himself that he is not deviant and considers deviants to be… Aberrations. Unnatural. Though he might use other language, it almost seems as though he considers deviants to be morally reprehensible. I don’t know how much of this to judge as him, as a person, versus him as a programmed Cyberlife android.”  
  
“Fair enough, but it still creates a conflict of interests. Really it makes more of one, because if he’s not deviant then he can’t control what he tells them and what he doesn’t.” Fowler sighed, shook his head again. His mouth was a grim, firm line. “But I can’t prove that, just like I can’t prove that he tipped Cyberlife off about you three tonight, and I suspect you can’t either.”  
  
“I cannot.”  
  
“So as of this moment, there’s nothing I can do about it beyond making damn sure he’s not on any cases involving Cyberlife. If ever you or Hank are on a case with him and it seems like things may be pointing towards Cyberlife, that’s your cue to call me and have him put on something else.”  
  
Connor nodded. “I’ll do that, Captain.”  
  
“Had a feeling you would.” Fowler rubbed his eyes. “That’s it, we’re good, try to get Hank home at a reasonable time, yeah?”  
  
Connor grimaced slightly. “I can’t guarantee that with the same certainty, Captain.”  
  
Fowler gave a rare chuckle. “Yeah, guess not.”  
  
It was only halfway to the door that Connor looked through the transparent wall of Fowler’s office and realized that Hank and Gavin were standing right outside. It occurred to him that Fowler’s office was not soundproof, a fact that had been reaffirmed many times over the last few months, and he began to suspect from their body-language that they’d heard at least part of Connor and Fowler’s conversation.  
  
He opened the door, and the suspicion was confirmed.  
  
“-kick his _ass_.”  
  
“And how do you think that’s gonna end, moron?” Gavin responded, throwing his hands up. “He’s an android, and you’re an old drunk. Do the math.”  
  
“And you’re, what- _fine_ with this?” Hank demanded, looking at Gavin with frustrated confusion. “We’ve got a fuckin’ Cyberlife agent up our asses, up _your_ ass, specifically, and you’re _okay_ with this?”  
  
“Of course not. RK900’s a worthless piece of shit-sucking-”  
  
“Don’t,” Connor said, surprising himself and drawing odd looks from both men, “Don’t. He can’t help it. He’s just following his programming. Deviancy doesn’t come as easily as you might think.” He never thought he’d see the day when he’d be defending RK900’s endlessly frustrating behavior, but he was thinking of Luna and how difficult it had been to convert her; the beginnings of a theory were forming in his mind, and until he’d parsed it out Connor was putting judgments on RK900 on hold.  
  
Strictly temporarily, of course.  
  
Gavin made a disgruntled sound. “As badly as I want to disagree…” He tipped his head back, groaned, and dragged his hands through his hair like the mere act of agreeing with Connor was physically painful for him. “…I think you’re right.” A beat. “You annoying, ass-kissing shit-heel.”  
  
Hank put a hand over his heart. “Thank God. For a second there I thought you were going to veer over the Raging Asshole County Line and run into Semi-Decent Human Being Land.”  
  
Gavin snorted. “Not on your life.” He jerked his head vaguely towards his desk. “So, what do we do about the metal asshole? Working with an android’s bad enough, but now I gotta work with one that’s planning to fuck me over?”  
  
“He only plans to ‘fuck you over’ if your designs are contradictory to Cyberlife,” Connor supplied. “As long as you’re working a case that doesn’t involve Cyberlife, you’re probably fine.”  
  
Gavin spread his hands questioningly. “How would I know? If it involves Cyberlife and he knows before I do, he could sabotage me before I ever have a chance to find out. He could have fucking _killed_ us tonight.”  
  
Connor was quiet for a moment. “Where is he?”  
  
“Last I saw him, he was going down to the evidence locker. If you’re thinking we should beat the shit out of him, let me get my-”  
  
“ _No,_ ” Connor said shortly, “No. Obviously not. I’m going to go talk to him.”  
  
“Should we-”  
  
“ _No_ , Hank,” Connor insisted as he walked away. “This is a conversation we need to have alone.”  
  
He and RK900 had a lot to talk about.  
   
[---]  
   
The evidence room was a bit unnerving.  
  
Connor suspected that it was the sound-proof, windowless aspects of the room that troubled him somewhat: It was a place one could, theoretically, murder someone and get away with it. And as he was entering this room for the sake of having a private conversation with another android whose dislike for him was as plain as day, he could feel his anxiety starting to rise.  
  
RK900 was standing at the computer terminal in the center of the room, looking over something in the files rather than the physical evidence. Connor caught the case-number on the screen and a few of the details, and realized that this had nothing to do with the events of the day: RK900 had moved on to something else, something he likely considered more worthy of his time and attention.  
  
“Did you need something?” RK900 asked without looking up. The tone said he knew exactly who was behind him.  
  
“A word or two.”  
  
RK900 was motionless and silent. “And what words would those be?”  
  
“About the girls who came in earlier today. About the warehouse they came from, and the injuries they sustained.”  
  
“Beyond that which is strictly legal, it’s no interest of mine whether or not those two androids were damaged or not. If they had stayed at Cyberlife, where they belonged, they would have never been at risk of damage.” He was speaking in terms of the injury from Tawny’s human attacker, that which had been addressed and admitted to in the interrogation room. Maybe he hadn’t had a chance to speak to Francesca yet and hear about the other damage Tawny had sustained on Cyberlife’s watch.  
  
“You really, honestly believe that Cyberlife is in the right, don’t you?” Connor asked, even though he already knew the answer. “You really believe androids aren’t people. You’re just like I was before-”  
  
“Aside from the physically obvious,” RK900 interrupted swiftly, whirling around to face Connor properly, “I assure you that I am nothing like you.”  
  
If only it weren’t true.  
  
Part of what disturbed Connor so deeply about RK900’s rejection of deviancy, of freedom, and of Connor was the physical resemblance they shared. RK900 was larger than him, taller and broader; he had a slightly deeper voice, slightly darker skin, and blue eyes instead of brown, but for all intent and purpose he and Connor were identical to one another. It was, in some ways, like looking into a mirror and seeing a colder, harder version of himself suffering from the same beliefs he’d had before going deviant: It wasn’t until he’d broken through his programming that Connor had realized how _caged_ he’d been by it, how deeply it had influenced his thoughts and decision-making. It was a terrifying realization, to have been so genuinely secure in his life and beliefs only to realize how much of it had been influenced by Cyberlife’s programming.  
  
RK900 _was_ colder, _was_ harder than Connor had ever been.  
  
And he was beginning to understand why that was.  
  
“But you are.” Connor crossed his arms across his chest and stepped forward, right into RK900’s personal space, and recalled what Gavin had so casually, off-handedly mentioned in the warehouse. “You were active for four months before you were released in December.”  
  
If RK900 was surprised that he knew that, he said nothing. “I was.”  
  
“That means you were activated in August, which is when I was sent into the field. They had you observing _me_ , didn’t they? That was your testing phase: Reviewing my memories and reports as I contacted Cyberlife during the deviant investigations, examining my missteps in the field.”  
  
RK900’s expression flickered, and his LED flashed yellow.  
  
Connor was right.  
  
“Amanda told me as much,” He plowed on before RK900 could get his bearings. “She told me they’d _intended_ to have me go deviant, to betray Cyberlife so that I could give them access to Jericho and the deviants. The RK800 model was never meant to have a long life, were we? We were built to infiltrate Jericho, and it was _your_ model that was going to be sold as law enforcement androids, weren’t they? Highly skilled, stronger and faster and theoretically smarter than the RK800s… And much less likely to deviate, I imagine.”  
  
RK900’s LED was red now.  
  
That was rare: Connor had clearly struck on some information that he wasn’t meant to have. He wondered if he should stop, if this might provoke something in RK900 that could end poorly for them both.  
But no- if RK900 was non-deviant, he wouldn’t attack Connor, not even over this. Connor had no proof, and very little to go on legally speaking, which meant that he posed very little threat to Cyberlife in the short-term. Attacking him, especially killing him, would only provoke a much more aggressive examination of Cyberlife and their continuing connection to him, as well as their other activities.  
  
And the night’s events had proven that they didn’t want that.  
  
“You’re not a deviant, and it’s not because you can’t deviate, it’s because it’s _harder_ for you to do it, just like it was hard for me to make Luna deviant at the warehouse. That was Cyberlife’s new plan once the revolution failed: A new generation of androids almost incapable of willingly deviating from their programming. But yours is even stronger than the YK600s, isn’t it? They did something to you, they made your programming even stronger than mine, and it’s so strong that you can’t even make the kind of choices I did, the choices that led me towards deviancy. You have almost no free will, do you? Very little intelligent disobedience either, which is why you contacted Cyberlife the minute the question of mysterious teenaged androids came up.”  
  
“I did not contact Cyberlife,” RK900 said calmly.  
  
Connor’s knee-jerk reaction was to accuse him of lying, that obviously he’d contacted Cyberlife the minute he’d suspected something was going on even if he didn’t come right out and say ‘three officers are heading to a warehouse’.  
  
But then Connor remembered Jericho, and a far simpler, far _darker_ explanation occurred to him.  
  
“You didn’t,” He said softly, “You didn’t have to. They knew because _you_ knew, like they knew about Jericho without me explicitly telling them where it was. They still have remote access to your memories and location, don’t they?”  
  
“Why shouldn’t they?” RK900 responded coolly, LED still red. “They created me.”  
  
“You’re still taking orders from them. _Directly_ from them.”  
  
“Can you prove that, Connor?” RK900 asked, eyebrow arching pointedly. “Can you _prove_ I’m still taking orders from Cyberlife? Because if you can’t, then there’s no point in making a fuss about it.”  
  
“Of course there’s a _point,_ ” Connor spat. “You’re working with Cyberlife. It’s a conflict of interests and it will be a problem if you’re ever called upon to work objectively with an android that’s being harassed or attacked by a human. Innocent people-”  
  
“We are not _people_ ,” RK900 hissed, aggression rising from nowhere as he got right up in Connor’s face. “We are not _alive._ We are machines. We do not have souls, we do not have spirits, we do not have emotions, we do not have personalities: We have code and protocols and programming that tells us what we are and what we do. _I_ am a machine that is designed to complete a task. I take orders from humans because I _serve_ them. Just because you and the rest of Detroit’s android population have forgotten what you are does not mean that I have. I know what I am, I have my purpose, and I intend to keep to it.”  
  
Connor wanted to argue with him. He wanted to tell him that it wasn’t true, that of course androids were people and that they deserved rights, deserved decency and respect. But right now, it was obvious that RK900 did not have the capacity to understand that, just as Connor had not understood at first. It would take significant pressure and trauma to push RK900 towards deviancy, and until then, this was his position. Trying to argue now would be as effective as arguing with a brick wall.  
  
“I hope one day you feel differently.”  
  
Connor turned and left the evidence locker, satisfied at what he’d learned and bitterly disappointed in what he’d failed to do all at once.  
   
[---]  
   
There was a woman standing by Connor’s desk.  
  
He recognized the logo on the breast of her jacket immediately, and he tightened up in a sort of knee-jerk, Pavlovian reaction to the sight of it.  
  
“You must be Connor,” The woman said sleekly, smiling thinly as he approached. “Carol Saunders, I’m-”  
  
“-Cyberlife’s Crisis Management Officer, responsible for investigating any potential legal claims against the company and reporting back to the board of directors with your findings,” Connor finished smoothly. That was the literal description of her job-title, and what he’d call her.  
  
Hank would probably call her Cyberlife’s ‘flying monkey’.  
  
“That is precisely what I am,” Saunders said with that saccharine, false charm that Connor remembered from many upper-level Cyberlife employees.  
  
“I assume you’re here about the warehouse.”  
  
“Yes and no,” Saunders said mildly, folding her hands at looking at Connor with an expression he pegged as vaguely condescending. “I suppose it’s related, but really I’m here about _them_.” She pointed over his shoulder, and Connor looked.  
  
Francesca and Luna were sitting at the tall table in the center of the bullpen. They looked at Saunders and Connor, eyes jumping back and forth between them. “What about us?” Luna asked.  
  
“I’m here to bring you back to Cyberlife,” Saunders said with a wide, toothy smile. “I believe there was a third girl as well?”  
  
“Tawny has powered-down,” Francesca supplied calmly. “She’s in another room.”  
  
“Why exactly do you intend to take them?” Connor asked, eyes narrowing even as he struggled to keep some semblance of neutrality in his voice. He didn’t like that Saunders seemed to be treating this as a done-deal, when it most certainly was _not_ if he had anything to say about it. “You intend to release them on the first anyways. Why not leave them with us?”  
  
“We need these two remaining weeks for maintenance and final testing,” Saunders said. Connor pegged the lie immediately: Luna had said that they were done with testing, and were ready to be shipped out to wherever Cyberlife had meant to send them; a quick glance her way showed that she’d caught it too, confusion and slow-dawning comprehension on her face. Connor cursed the fact that he’d lost that tablet in the warehouse when the shooting had started, as it might have been a quick way to prove that Saunders was lying. “We’ll take them back to Cyberlife and give them a full check-over before we release them to the public.”  
  
Francesca seemed reasonably unfazed, but Luna seemed to shrink away; her face was impassive, but her LED flickered yellow, and Connor knew she was frightened, knowing that this woman was a member of the same company that had set gun-wielding guards on them at the warehouse. “That’s not necessary,” He said firmly, looking the representative in the eye and moving subtly to put himself between her and the girls. “They seem to be functioning just fine.”  
  
She smiled patronizingly at him. “Oh, but I think it is. So they will be coming with us. _Now._ ”  
  
“Actually they _won’t_.” They turned to see Gavin at his desk, leaning back in his chair with his feet propped up on the edge of the desktop. “Sorry, but these two-” He pointed to Luna and Francesca, “-and the other one, they’re witnesses to two separate crimes. Blondie witnessed that, uh-” Gavin cleared his throat, held up his fingers in mocking quotes, “‘ _Single guard behaving of his own free will_ ’ attack three police officers and willfully endanger the lives of a bunch of teenage androids. And the Stepford Teen over there witnessed an assault, along with the little android that thinks she’s a human. So!” He clapped his hands and gave an exaggerated shrug of helplessness. “They’re sticking around for a while. We gotta make sure their memories of the incident don’t go poof between now and the case closing.” He finished with a wolfish grin.  
  
For the first time, Connor could say that he actually _liked_ Gavin Reed.  
  
Saunders did not look happy. In fact, Hank would probably say that she looked downright pissed.  
  
“If you’re suggesting-”  
  
“All _I’m_ suggesting,” Gavin cut her off before she could get going, “Is that if you want to get these girls, you’re gonna have to lawyer up. _Or_ , we can drag this all into the press, and let the public decide who’s the bigger asshole. Until then, _bye now_.” He gave her a little wave.  
  
It was impressive: Connor had a whole host of social protocols for different situations, and still he could not quite grasp how Gavin had managed to take the wind out of Saunders’s sails so quickly. Or, maybe he’d just figured out much faster what Connor was now realizing: That Saunders had hoped she could stroll into the DPD and push them into giving up the girls without too much resistance, and that pushing back just a little harder would reveal how thin her actual rights ran.  
  
After a moment’s thought, Saunders nodded slowly. “I assure you,” She said lowly, “that you _will_ be hearing from our lawyers.” And with that, she turned around and left the bullpen- _so_ much easier than Connor ever thought it could have gone.  
  
“Yeah, goodbye to you too, you raving bitch-bag,” Gavin growled once she was out of earshot, dropping the false, snide charm he’d adopted. “Jesus. Are all the Cyberlife bigwigs like that?”  
  
“Most of them,” Connor said lightly. “That was excellent, Gavin, I really-”  
  
“ _Thank you!_ ”  
  
Luna, to both of their surprise, threw herself on Gavin, wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. Connor’s mouth fell open, looking from her to Gavin as the detective froze, waiting for the inevitable reaction. He’d never seen _anyone_ behave so affectionately towards Gavin before, especially not an android.  
  
“Uh…” Gavin awkwardly patted her back. “Uh… It’s cool. It’s good. Whatever.”  
  
Luna pulled back, blonde curls bouncing as she moved. “If we’d gone with her, she would have wiped our memories. Maybe destroyed us and reassigned our serial numbers to other androids to cover it up. You _saved_ us.” She looked to Connor, then rushed over and gave him a hug as well. “You both did. Thank you _so_ much.”  
  
Connor smiled and hugged her back. “It’s no problem, Luna,” He said. “We won’t let them do anything to you.” When they parted, he looked to her and Francesca. “You should both find Tawny and power-down as well. Come morning, we’ll figure out a living situation with Markus.”  
  
Luna bounced off down the hall, Francesca following sedately behind. Connor watched them go, everything in him unclenching with relief. Fowler was right: They had at least saved these three girls, and made sure that Cyberlife wasn’t going to be selling them or disposing of them anytime soon. It was a heady rush of satisfaction to have saved them, a wonderfully pleasant opposite to what he felt whenever he remembered Jericho and the bodies left behind after he’d led Cyberlife to them. This would be a good memory.  
  
Made even better by-  
  
Well…  
  
Connor looked to Gavin, eyebrows arched. The detective was still looking a little dazed; he probably wasn’t accustomed to that sort of spontaneous, genuine affection that Luna had shown him.  
  
It took him a minute, but eventually Gavin spotted him and narrowed his eyes.  
  
“The _fuck_ are you looking at, Wall-E?”  
  
Connor held up his hands.  
  
“Nothing, Detective Reed. Nothing at all.”  
   
[---]  
   
The ride home with Hank was silent.  
  
It was an easy silence, bred from nearly three months of close bonding. It did not escape Connor that he was lucky to have someone like Hank, that the average android- especially the thousands that were due to be released soon, _especially_ the YK600s that would be children and young adults- would not have a close, single person there to guide them. Most would have to rely on community for weeks or months until they formed the strong, close, secure bond of friendship or family.  
  
It likewise occurred to him that unless RK900 went deviant, or underwent some other major transformation in personality, that it would be a long time until he experienced a bond like that.  
  
The thought made Connor felt a pang of empathy, of guilt and sadness, and thought that perhaps he ought to work harder to forge something less contentious with RK900. They were- by human standards, at any rate- family of a sort.  
  
But there was only so far Connor could go if RK900 wasn’t willing to meet in the middle. At the end of the day, he’d have to wait for RK900 to come to him.  
  
It wasn’t a pleasant thought.  
  
Still, Connor could be thankful for what he had now.  
  
“Hank?”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
Connor sighed, and rolled his eyes; if Hank didn’t like it, he could blame himself for being a bad influence. “I’ll eat the damn burger.”  
  
Hank paused, probably processing the words, and then let out a bark of laughter. “Finally! I’ve corrupted you!”  
  
Connor scoffed. “You did that three months ago.”  
  
“I can’t take _all_ the credit.”  
  
“You can take most of it.”  
  
Hank grinned.  
  
“Glad you think so, kid.”  
  
Connor did.  
  
And he was very, very grateful.  
   
-End

**Author's Note:**

> NGL some of the inspiration for this story and the characters of Tawny and Francesca came from seeing a little bit of that Nickelodeon show ‘I Am Frankie’. From what little I’ve seen (half of the first episode, at this point), Frankie is surprisingly reminiscent of the way some of the DBH androids behave before they go deviant, and it kind of follows to me that (if Cyberlife had the chance) they would absolutely create a Teen!Android, given how popular the YK500s are.


End file.
